Taken by Retards
by G-ChanSanKun
Summary: What if Bryan's daughter wasn't so helpless? With Gina in the movieverse, we're about to find out. No pairings. Part of the "Retard" series. Rated M for explicit descriptions of all things traumatizing. R&R please and enjoy at your own risk!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey all! I'm terribly sorry that I've been lame with updating my stuff, namely Retards of the Caribbean. I know a lot of you have been patiently waiting for an update, and I promise you that once I come up with that next part of the plot, I WILL update (suggestions are welcome). Trust me, I definitely don't want to abandon ROTC. In the meantime, enjoy this next story in my _Retard_ series (I'm surprised this is longer than a chapter)! This is a relatively short and rushed chapter, but hopefully the future chapters won't be so much. Or maybe they will, who knows?  
**

**Disclaimer: _Taken_ belongs to Luc Besson, Pierre Morel, and EuropaCorp. This crack plot, and a few of the characters (namely the ones that don't appear in the movie) belong to me 3  
**

* * *

**Chapter One: She is Taken**

Gina watched as the taxi with the hot French guy (was his name Peter or something like that?) drove off, waving with a cheerful smile on her face. Once the car was out of sight, the very first thing she did was turn and smack her friend upside the back of her head, just like Special Agent Gibbs, because he is win.

"You dumb bitch!" She snapped, "Are you out of your mind! What if he comes back tonight and murders us in our sleep or something!?"

"What?! He's good-looking and he doesn't look like a sketchy creeper; there's no way he'd be that kind of guy!" Kasedy shot back angrily.

"Haven't you watched horror movies before? The best-looking guy IS the killer! God, we're going to go find some other place to stay, because I GUARANTEE you that if we stay there, shit will go down. Hell, why don't you go tell the world press where we're staying, idiot!"

"Okay look, it wasn't that bad! We're just two young women; it's not like we're the President's daughters or anything!"

Gina turned her death glare on her best friend, who quickly shut the fuck up. "You CLEARLY have no street smarts woman. That's why I can prove that I was born in the city, and you can't. Now, we're going to find some relatively cheap hotel to stay in, damnit!"

"But if I don't stay here, my parents will flip out and start a war!"

"Ugh, FINE! Just be lucky that my ex-CIA Agent of a father decided to give me his old .45 caliber and Uzi for my birthday!"

"Yea, about that… why did he give you those guns, anyway? And train you to use them too by the way?"

"He had new guns… and he trained me because he was a bored, paranoid, ex-CIA Agent."

* * *

"You were supposed to call me as soon as you got there."

Gina rolled her eyes at her father's chiding voice, relocating to a more quiet part of the apartment. Looking out the window, she could see the living room, where Kasedy was dancing to the booming music. "Yes, Dad, I know. We just got here and we were settling in."

"Let me talk to one of her cousins."

"Yea, about that… My wonderful friend told me after the fact that there _are_ no cousins here. They're in Spain."

"Gawd, Gina. Anything else you want to tell me?"

But Gina didn't reply at first. She was too busy staring in shock as two men, clothed in black, practically tackled Kasedy and dragged her out of the living room. She was kicking and screaming the whole way. _Well, at least she's not one of those wimpy bitches that get killed off in the first five minutes of the movie..._

"Oh… my God…" Gina whispered, with lack of anything else to actually say.

"What… What is it Gina?"

She suddenly noticed four other guys coming into the living, trashing the place, clearly looking for something... or someone. "...Oh HELL NO!"

"Gina, what's going on!?"

Gina turned and rushed out of the bathroom, running straight to her room, where she had dropped off her "Special Duffel Bag" prior to dancing in the living. "That idiot… I told her this would happen!"

"What do you mean, Gina? Damnit tell me what's going on!"

"A couple of guys came in. They took Kasedy. I think they're coming back for me. I'm going to my room to get** the goods**. Look, I gotta let you go. How fast can you get to Paris? Actually, just come when you can. I think I already have a plan."

"Gina… wait…!"

Gina hung up before he could continue to protest. Just a few seconds later, she was pulling out her .45 caliber and the ammo. Yea. She wasn't lying when she said her father had given them to her for a birthday present. Once she was locked and loaded, she settled herself against the wall opposite from the door. That's when they, the thugs, threw the door open.

"Alright fucks, DON'T COME ANY FUCKING CLOSER! This gun is fully loaded, and I'M NOT AFRAID TO SHOOT YOUR FUCKING BRAINS OUT! DON'T THINK I'M PLAYING!"

One of the thugs dared to take a step closer. Sadly for him, he, and his brains, quickly learned that she meant it.

"I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO!"

"Holy shit, she's crazy!"

"You bet I am. Now, let my friend go and GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM! You have until the count of five…" Another guy showed up, "… six before I make you all sorry."

She paused for good measure then pointed her gun at the closest guy.

"ONE!" She shot him in the face. His nose went flying off like it was some piece of plastic surgery gone horrible wrong. The blood just poured from the fresh hole like a waterfall. She then turned towards another random guy. "TWO!" This time, she got him in the chest. He stumbled backwards before falling to an ungraceful heap on the floor. Blood was already pooling around his body. She whirled to point at another thug, who was now staring in horror.

"THREE!" This bullet embedded itself into his jugular vein. Blood sprayed everywhere, including all over Gina.

"OH FUCK NO! YOU DID NOT JUST BLEED ALL OVER MY CLOTHES! I'LL CALL MY LITTLE SISTER, AND I SWEAR TO GOD YOU DO **NOT **WANT ME TO CALL MY SISTER!"

"Oh fuck your little sister!" the guy with the hole in his chest shouted in a strangled voice, "How much worse can she be, compared to your psycho ass!"

Just for that, Gina pumped several rounds into his skull, shutting him up permanently. Promptly reloading, she screamed "KIMMIE!"

Abruptly, the door closed, startling the intruders, and then was swiftly kicked down, crushing the body of the guy who provoked Gina into calling for Kimmie in the first place. There, standing in the wrecked doorway, was none other than Kimmie.

"THERE IS A SITUATION AND I AM ENTERING IT!" she roared, turning to face Gina "WHAT'S THE DIAGNOSIS!?"

"THESE FUCKS HERE TOOK KASEDY AND THEY WON'T LET HER GO! Also they won't kindly get the fuck out of my room. See? I already killed three of them. I even used the 'count the number of people I'm about to kill' trick."

"Sonova! So, any ideas?"

"Well, yea. We're going to force them to give Kasedy back."

Kimmie had a grin to rival that of Satan's. "Sounds like a plan. And I have just the idea too."

* * *

The screams resonating through the apartment were bloodcurdling. When you followed the sounds, you'd come to a bedroom filled with dead bodies. All, of course, except three; two sisters and a captive gang member. Ironically, of course, they had completely obliterated any and all opposition.

"So, are you going to tell us where Kasedy was taken to?" Kimmie asked sweetly, "I've got plenty more IvanLiet* yaoi pornos to show you if you aren't ready to answer."

The man started screaming again.

"I know, I know. Boy on boy sex turns me on too."

"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! I'll tell you! I'll tell you everything. Please, _please_ don't show me any more porn, please!" the prisoner begged. They had taped his eyelids back to prevent him from closing his eyes and blocking out the mental trauma. Kimmie and Gina grinned at each other, giving each other a high five before they turned back to the captive, whom happens to be Peter, because I said so.

"So, tell us everything you know about the whereabouts of Kasedy."

"Okay! She'd probably been taken to our warehouse where she'll get drugged up and sold as a whore! The warehouse is in the city landfill!"

"Good boy!" Gina cheered, patting him lightly on the head, "Now, we are going to go see if that's really where she is..."

"YOU TWO ARE FUCKING INSANE! YOU WON'T EVEN LAST TWO SECONDS! YOU THINK YOU STAND A CHANCE!? WHAT A JOKE!"

"SHUT UP! YOU'RE ABOUT THREE SECONDS AWAY FROM GETTING MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS!" Kimmie shrieked, effectively shutting him up.

Gina blinked impassively before continuing as if she wasn't interrupted in the first place, "Of course, if it turns out that you're _wrong_…"

The death glare she turned on him caused him to pass out. Humming in approval, she glanced at her little sister.

"I think he'll be out for a while, don't you? So he'll still be tied and unarmed here for us to interrogate once we get back," Gina remarked, "Anyway, you have your rocket launcher?"

Kimmie grinned evilly, pulling the huge weapon out of her back pocket. "Muffins are freshly baked with explosive fluids."

"Good. Let's get out of here and find Kas."

* * *

***IvanLiet is a yaoi fan-pairing in _Hetalia: Axis Powers._ Ivan is Russia's human name; Liet is Lithuania's. Unless you've watched the series, you probably wouldn't get it. But basically, yaoi is boy sex. That should be ample enough info to make you get it and laugh... or be scarred... Hope you liked it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey all! Putting up the next chapter of this story yay! After this, I'm not entirely sure if I'll be coming up with updates any time soon, but please bear with me! I'm working on manifesting plot bunnies for ROTC. And I almost have something. I'd hate to give a deadline, but I'd expect a new chapter sometime before this month is over, I'm hoping. No guarantees, of course. In any event, enjoy this chapter!  
**

**Disclaimer: _Taken_ belongs to Luc Besson, Pierre Morel, and EuropaCorp. This crack plot, and a few of the characters (namely the ones that don't appear in the movie) belong to me 3  
**

* * *

**Chapter Two: He is Not a Yaoi Fan-boy**

"Well, he really wasn't lying… I'm actually kind of surprised…" Gina remarked as the duo looked over a pile of trash to the nasty shack warehouse thing, "Look, the line's gone. Took them all long enough, gawd. Anyway, all we need to do now is take out the guards in front of the shack and, it should be long enough."

Kimmie nodded, grinning, brandishing her rocket launcher. "The muffins are still hot. Let's go."

The two of them abruptly stood up and strolled up to the hut. The two guards noticed their approach and faced them fully, holding their AK-47's threateningly.

"State your business," one of the guards said, eyeing Gina up and down.

"Actually we're here to raid your whore house. Kimmie, if you would do us the honors."

"Sure thing." She whipped out the rocket launcher, earning looks of incredulous horror. The two guards however, quickly relaxed when they watched as she began sticking muffins through the huge barrel.

"Perform a raid? On us? With muffins?" One of the guards snorted, "Either you go home and play with your toys, or let us force you to be a sex slave…"

Their sentiments on the muffin ordeal quickly did a 180 when Kimmie hauled off and fired the muffins, which exploded upon impact, blowing a hole in the wall. The two guards could only gape at the scene before slowly looking over at the smirking girls.

"What did you put in those?" one of them asked in horror.

Kimmie grinned. "Nitroglycerin."

Before they could do anymore, they were simultaneously kicked in the groin rather forcefully by the two sisters. Gina felt merciful for a change, and left them to cry on the ground while they headed up to the hole in the wall. There was screaming and yelling and generally a whole lot of chaos that typically is caused by explosions.

"Alright, let's do this mother-father…" Kimmie muttered, hefting her rocket launcher to her other shoulder as she moved to rush in.

"Kimmie, wait. Don't you have anything other than your rocket launcher? I mean, if you shoot that thing in there, you're gonna kill everyone."

The younger sister rolled her eyes. "Fine," She reached into her back pockets and out from the depths came one of her most feared weapons; the staple gun.

Yes, you heard that right. Home Depot is manufacturing WMD's. They've been behind it the whole time.

The duo sped over to the hole; Kimmie on one side and Gina on the other. Both checked their corners. Kimmie made a hand motion. Gina had no idea what it was.

"_What_?" she whisper-shouted, "You look like you're giving an invisible hand job!"

Kimmie rolled her eyes and flipped off her older sister. Gina sighed. "Look, I'll go in first, but you need to have my six, got it?"

Kimmie's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas Day; ZOMG an NCIS reference! Then, in her best Tony DiNozzo voice, she responded "Got your six, boss."

"Kimmie; never do that again."

With that, the two of them stormed the front, immediately setting to work going through the masses and organizing friend and foe. Or, in their lingo; assholes and lovers.

"ALRIGHT ASSHOLES! WHOEVER HAS KASEDY IS GONNA GET OUR EXPLODING MUFFINS DOWN THEIR FUCKING THROATS!"

"I'M GONNA BE THROWING THE MUFFINS, BY THE WAY!"

"**KIMMIE**! WAS THAT REALLY NECESSARY?!"

"SHUT UP! YOU'RE ABOUT THREE SECONDS FROM GETTING MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS!"

"FUCKING **EXCUSE ME**?!"

Of course, before their raid and rescue, a whole 'nother battle would have to waged first.

* * *

In all honestly, nothing really eventful happened. After they beat the crap out of each other, the two sisters went through every little room, kicking the shit out of the guys or gals who were raping the poor forced prostitutes. There was an instant in which Kimmie shot a guy in the eyes with her staple gun. It was humorous. But in the end, they couldn't find Kasedy. Gina was less than pleased, far less than pleased in fact. She was so not pleased; she was, in reality, quite pissed off.

The captive was still there, surprisingly, and this time conscious as Gina and Kimmie strolled into the room.

"Well hello there Peter," Gina greeted with a clearly forced grin, "It seems that your story about Kasedy being there was totally **not true**."

Kimmie had a twisted grin on her face as she brandished more tapes, "Today, there's a special of steamed Uchihacest, with a side of GaaSasu. For dessert, we will have an excellent cuisine of MadaIta, and finally, we'll top it all off with a delicious helping of OroSasu*."

Peter's face paled considerably and he began shaking his head furiously. "N-no! I didn't know! I didn't know that she would be taken so quickly! I'm sorry! I'll tell you anything! Anything! Just please don't show me that again!"

Gina squatted in front of him, and glared murderously at him. "This time, then," she growled lowly, expressing to him just how ready she was to torture him to death, "You will tell me _everything_ instead of hiding information."

"You're a retard if you honestly thought that we were that retarded," Kimmie added as well.

And so, that was more than enough to scare Peter into telling them everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything; the location of the little house where they all chillax, what happens to the girls, what was most likely Kasedy's fate, what he had for breakfast, why he turned to kidnapping girls for sexual slavery, his mom's kleptomania, his favorite blue ball as a boy…

"All right, shut the fuck up," Gina cut him off in exasperation, "I really could care less about your life story. But you're positive that's everything?"

Peter nodded vigorously. Gina patted him on the head again.

"Good boy!" she glanced over at Kimmie, who nodded and put a tape into the VCR. Peter blanched.

"B-but… I told you everything!"

"As you should've the first time we asked, no? Well, we'll be taking our leave now," Gina replied cheerfully.

"Enjoy~" Kimmie added with a wink, closing the door behind her as Peter's screams began once again.

* * *

Bryan's cell phone rang, and he hastily picked up, recognizing the caller ID as his daughter's. The only thing he heard over the receiver when he answered, however, was a deep, steady, and sketchy as hell breathing. His heart was in his throat and his stomach curdled. They had captured Gina too; they probably figured out that he was talking on the phone with her. What were they trying to do; mock him? In any event, he knew exactly what he needed to do. Obviously, that was get Gina and Kasedy back.

He _knew_ he shouldn't have taught Gina how to shoot people, he just_ knew_ it! He should've seen this coming; that Gina would go and get involved in something way over her head, not to mention out of her league.

I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. I can tell you that I don't have any money. I do however, have a particular set of skills; skills acquired over a very long career; skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. I will look for you. I will find you. And I will kill you," he said, his voice calm and steady, if not a tad bit venomous. And could you blame him? He was pissed.

There was a brief pause over the phone before; "What the fuck? Dad, it's me, your **daughter**. Haven't you gotten on a plane yet?!"

After recovering from the shock, he squeaked "… How?"

"Never mind that. Kimmie came and helped me out. Now are you coming over to Paris or what? Kimmie and I are going to raid another house, but we'll also need some recon from you, since we know you still have your connections. Come on, did you really think we didn't know you were still doing CIA side jobs? Now get on a fucking plane and get to France already! We can't do everything by ourselves!"

Before Bryan could answer, Gina hung up. He stared at his phone for a long moment, sighing deeply.

Well, it looked like he had work to do.

But before that...

"How the hell did **Kimmie** get to Paris without me knowing?"

Ah, the joys of parenting...

* * *

***In this paragraph of dialogue, Kimmie is rattling off yaoi pairings from the popular anime Naruto. Uchihacest is Itachi x Sasuke, GaaSasu is Gaara x Sasuke, MadaIta is Madara x Itachi, and OroSasu is Orochimaru x Sasuke. **

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! 3 G  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: _Taken_ belongs to Luc Besson, Pierre Morel, and EuropaCorp. This crack plot, and a few of the characters (namely the ones that don't appear in the movie) belong to me.**

**Also, I am not writing this in a serious fashion. Therefore, I apologize in advance to anyone I offend.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Three: He is Arnold**

"So, you remembered everything he said, right?"

"Yup. He mentioned that one guy, and I don't remember his name."

"It's Arnold*. The only problem would be, at this point, how the hell are we supposed to get there?"

Kimmie rolled her eyes, "You have a license. Go steal a car."

"Like I know how to hot-wire one!"

In the end, they decided that taking a taxi would probably be their best bet. It took them a couple minutes; the traffic was almost as bad as Manhattan. But a yellow taxi did pull up, and the two sisters jumped in to the back.

"Go to the house with the red door. It's called "Rue de paradise" or something." Gina instructed the driver, who gave her a funny look as she confused her French accents with her Spanish ones.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. You're probably involved with that gang that's been stealing and selling girls, because I said so."

The man looked stunned, and he moved, just a bit, to reach for his glove compartment. Instantly, Kimmie had pulled out her other most feared weapon – the nail gun.

Remember when I said Home Depot was manufacturing those WMD's? Well, I really wasn't kidding.

Kimmie pressed it against the guy's temple, and he promptly froze.

"I wonder if a nail in the brain could kill somebody?" she remarked cheerfully. The man paled. Were these two kids the cause of that massacre in the hotel down the road? Well, now that he actually stopped to think about it, they _did_ come out of that very hotel. And when he noticed them, they each had a huge black duffel bag, and a smaller backpack. He had assumed that that stuff was just luggage.

_And?_ His mental voice asked him, _what about the fact that there's blood on their clothes?_

He thought that was food coloring or something…

Gina's smile was just as bright. "Now, let's get going to that house with the red door, shall we?"

The ride was uneventful. Well, that's a lie. The time was passed with Kimmie telling rather graphic yaoi stories. Luckily, the guy kept his cool. He looked about ready to drive his car through a tree. His temptation only got worse when Gina joined in and the two sisters began comparing yaoi doujins.

"No, that BakuBaku** doujin you showed me the other day is better!" Gina shrieked.

"Fuck that! The Russia doujin where he had that psycho face was better, you retard!" Kimmie roared in response.

"Don't call me a fucking retard!"

"Retard!"

"Keep pressing my buttons, you bitch! I'll kick your fucking ass!"

"WHATEVER!"

What, were you expecting their debate to be light-hearted or something? You were sorely mistaken.

"Um, ladies," the driver spoke up quietly, almost fearful for his life, "We're here."

The duo ceased their banter, glancing up. "Oh, well what do you know…"

"Thanks. You're not getting paid for the ride," Kimmie said, still pissed. And she let that be known, by shooting the guy anyway.

"What the hell, Kimmie!?"

"WHAT?! HE WOULD'VE TOLD THEM WE WERE HERE OTHERWISE!"

"Oh whatever!" Gina got out of the car in a huff, "You'd better have the goods!"

Kimmie hefted her duffel bag and her backpack out of the trunk; Gina had already taken her own things. Together, they walked up the stairs and through the red door without hesitation.

On the other side, there was a set of stairs, which was guarded by two henchmen. As the sisters approached, the suspicious guards glanced at each other before blocking the girls' way.

"What business are you on?" the shorter guard ask.

"We're here to see Arnold, for reasons that you would never understand," Gina replied cheerfully.

"Well, if that's the case, you can't pass."

"I bet we can," Kimmie grinned, opening up her backpack and pulling out a doujin, "For some reason, you look like a fag to me."

"Wh-What?!"

"Which is why I think you'd like one of THESE!" she pressed the book into his face, "It's BakuBaku, a really graphic one!"

"Baku… Baku?"

Kimmie slid around to stand next to him, flipping through the pages. "See? Really good smut. I'll give this to you for free if you let us go through."

The man was blushing just a bit. "W-Well, I guess I could…"

"PIERRE!" the other guard, more bulky and taller than him, snapped "What the hell?! You can't just let them pass!"

Pierre looked slightly upset. Kimmie eyed him before glancing up at the taller guy.

"Hey, what's your name?"

"It's none of your business."

She looked at Pierre, "What's his name?"

"C-Claude."

"PIERRE! WHAT THE FUCK!?"

Kimmie stood up straight, turning and scrutinizing Claude for a very long moment. Then, she looked at Pierre for a long moment. Then, she snapped her fingers.

"I get it now." She stood next to Pierre, "You're gay, but he's not. And you like him, and have the hots for him."

Pierre was startled. "W… How?"

"I'm the yaoi expert. Real-life yaoi doesn't go by unnoticed. So, here, I'll make you a deal. You let us go through, and I'll not only give you that doujin, I'll also help you to screw him," she indicated Claude with her thumb. Claude paled.

Pierre looked confused. "How would you do that?"

Kimmie, smirking, snapped her finger. Gina nodded, pulled out a taser and zapped Claude with it. The large man fell to the ground, twitching, but otherwise paralyzed.

"Consider it done," Kimmie said, winking as she and Gina, who had pocketed the taser, walked up the stairs and into the house.

Pierre, who had tears of happiness in his eyes, knelt by Claude's horror stricken face, and stroked his cheek.

"No worries, _mon ami_, I'll try to make it as pleasurable as I can. It is your first time after all."

* * *

"I wonder how far they've gotten…" Kimmie pondered.

"Well, I doubt he's like you and wants to dive headfirst into sex," Gina answered as she glanced around, "They say the French are the best lovers. Ah, here we go…"

They strolled leisurely into the kitchen/dining room. At the table sat eight men. They all had dark hair, they all had brown eyes and they all had horrible taste in clothing... and hygiene.

"You all look like scum bags," Kimmie observed aloud without thinking. Gina threw her a glare before glancing back at the men.

"That's American for "Hi, how are you?'" Gina quickly spoke up, waving off the phrase like it wasn't a blatant insult, "Anyway…"

"What are you doing here?" the man with the ponytail asked, interrupting her without a guilty conscience.

"Well gee, quick to get to the point are we now, you rude asshole!" Gina snapped.

"That's American for "We're here to chat,'" Kimmie remarked, covering for her sister, even though they both knew that since the man with the ponytail asked a question in English, he probably _knew_ English. Perhaps deep down, they were in denial: _He only knows that one phrase!_

"Well?"

"Right. We're here to have you take a gander at this pic," Gina pulled out her cell phone, showing him a picture of Kasedy, "You know this girl?"

The man stared at it for a few long seconds, before a knowing smirk graced his lips. "Nope; afraid I don't."

"You're a fucking liar, and you suck at it," Kimmie remarked impassively.

"That's American for "Um, we know you're lying… idiot…'" Gina added, her eye twitching, "How about you tell us the truth?"

"Better yet, which one of you here is Arnold?" Kimmie spoke up, looking slightly annoyed.

All the men said, at once, "I am."

"… You fucking liars…"

"Kimmie, shut up for a moment!" Gina cut her off, turning to the guy with the ponytail, "Hey, say 'Good luck.'"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because if you don't, I'll shoot you. By the way, that's American for "Please… or else.'"

The man rolled his eyes – clearly he wasn't all that threatened by their presence, and said "Good luck."

Gina's eye twitched. And this wasn't just the typical twitch; it was a very evident twitch. It was a twitch that signified clarity, understanding, realization, and anger beyond your worst nightmares. Think of the Gibbs eye twitch when L.J. gets pissed. THAT kind of twitch. Now, you have every right to be pissing your pants in fear. Of course, Arnold had never watched NCIS before, and thought that her twitching eye was just some sort of tic; a physical Tourette's if you will.

"You probably don't remember me," she stated, her voice calm and intimidating -- Bryan would've been proud, "I've never talked to you before in my entire life; not in person, not on the phone, not even via AIM. But…" insert dramatic pause for effect, "… I told you I would find you."

The man's eyes widened – they knew he was Arnold – and all chaos broke loose.

* * *

Arnold blearily opened his eyes. He found himself in the basement, and tied to a chair.

"Hey, our friend's finally awakened," Gina remarked as she hopped off the washing machine and strolled over to grin at him.

"Fucking lazy bastard," Kimmie growled.

"Hey, it's your fault for taking the 2x4 to his skull."

"Well he wouldn't stop moving!"

"Shut up already. Anyway, Arnold, how are you?"

Arnold's eyes narrowed. "What do you want with me?"

"I already showed you want I want. We know you were lying before; I can't believe you suck that badly at lying, I mean gawd. You're worse than my little brother. Anyway, we'd like for you to tell us where Kasedy is."

The man didn't say a word, instead glaring murderously. Gina's eyes narrowed.

"Not gonna talk, huh?" she asked, her voice low. She glanced over her shoulder at Kimmie, who was lounging in a chair next to an old TV.

The younger sister raised an eyebrow before sitting up, exposing the tape she had been holding on to. "Are you sure?"

Gina nodded, giving the okay. Kimmie grinned, a slow, large and evil grin, and she turned and stuck the tape in.

"I can't even begin to tell you how hard it was to tape this without them noticing I planted the camera there…"

Abruptly, the screen showed Pierre having his way with Claude. And Claude was actually _enjoying_ it.

Arnold's eyes bugged out of his head. "Is… is that…?"

Kimmie nodded. "And… Are they…?"

She nodded again. "Well, if it weren't for the taser, I'm sure this would've been impossible."

He squeezed his eyes shut. Even if the sounds were still clear as a bell, he could still avoid watching, so ha!

"Oh no, we won't be having any of **that**. Kimmie worked hard to get this footage… Pass me the duct tape."

With that, Gina pried his eyes open, using the duck tape to tape his eyelids to his forehead. And since it was duct tape, there was no chance in hell that Arnold was gonna be able to close his eyes. And, before he could even think of it, Gina pinned his head and taped it so he was look ahead, at the TV. Then, with Kimmie's help, she moved the TV close enough so that was the only think Arnold could see, no matter what he tried to do.

"N-no! Stop it!" he shrieked, "I can't stand this!"

Gina cued for Kimmie to stop the tape, and promptly slammed her hands down on the arms of his chair, leaning in close.

"Tell me where my friend is," she growled, "Otherwise, you'll need to go to a therapist for the rest of your fucking life."

"And you still won't be able to erase the images!" Kimmie chimed in.

"O-okay! W-we sold her to Patrice Saint-Clair!"

"… Is that it?"

"I'm sorry… that's all I know!"

"Is it _really_."

Arnold nodded frantically. Gina's eyes narrowed and she glanced over at Kimmie, who nodded and started the tape back up.

"So, ARE YOU SURE THAT'S REALLY IT?!"

"NO! DON'T PLAY IT, PLEASE!"

"TELL ME EVERYTHING!"

"Okay! Okay!" Kimmie stopped the tape once again, waiting to see if he continued, "Saint-Clair is a very prominent businessman; you can learn more about him if you talk to Jean-Claude. He's a dirty cop, but he knows more about him that I do! Kasedy is probably with Saint-Clair, and he'll probably auction her off."

"Is that so."

"Yes, now please just leave me alone! I told you everything!"

Gina scoffed, backing off. She didn't look happy.

"Sorry, but you know what they say about karma: what goes around comes around."

Arnold's widening eyes were filled with horror as Kimmie started the tape up again, and he paled as he saw them walk away out of the corner of his eye.

The two sisters were closing the basement just as he wailed "NOOOOOOOOOO!"

"So, where to next?" Kimmie asked, almost bored as she collected her things.

"We're going to pay Jean-Claude a visit. He's got some explaining to do…"

"Are we gonna kick his ass?"

"… Sure, why not?"

* * *

The TV was running white noise and static. Bryan could only gape at the sight before him. There was blood splattering on the walls, bullet holes in the walls, the bed, the dresser, everywhere. Dead bodies littered the floor, save for one, who was tied to a chair. His eyes were bloody – the blood on his fingers led Bryan to believe he gouged them out – and he had been foaming at the mouth.

And the only thought the ex-CIA agent had was that his _daughters_ were the ones who caused this. And they were alone in France, left to, basically, their own devices.

"… Oh dear God."

* * *

***Arnold is the guy's name, because I can't remember what his name actually was in the movie XDDD**

****Also, BakuBaku is a Yugioh! fan pairing between Ryo Bakura and Yami Bakura.  
**

**A/N: Ah, I finally got a new chapter up! So far this is coming along nicely. Actually, we're approximately halfway through the movie at this point, so I'd have to say that we're about half way done with this story! Yay! Anyway, once I'm done with this story, I plan to start the new installment in my _Retard_ series. Want to know what it is? Too bad! You'll find out once I actually publish it! Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: _Taken_ belongs to Luc Besson, Pierre Morel, and EuropaCorp. This crack plot, and a few of the characters (namely the ones that don't appear in the movie) belong to me.**

**Also, I am not writing this in a serious fashion. Therefore, I apologize in advance to anyone I offend.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Four: He is Not Related to Jesus **

The door bell was definitely persistent. Jean-Claude finally gave up ignoring it (he had been enjoying a late dinner with his wife, damnit!) and he answered the door. On the other side were two girls, who appeared to be an older and younger sister.

"Peux-je vous aider*?" he asked.

They girls made a strange face, glancing at each other.

"Shut the fuck up," the younger one snapped, clearly in English.

The older one smacked her upside the head. "Kimmie!" she turned and glanced at Jean-Claude, "No hablo… oh, wait. Oh whatever; do you speak English?"

Jean-Claude looked slightly bewildered. "Yes… yes I do. Why?"

"Are you Jean-Claude?"

"Yes I am…!" Abruptly, Kimmie punched him across the face, and the other girl, whom we all know is Gina, soccer-kicked his legs, knocking him over. Then, the sisters proceeded to beat the fuck out of him.

The wife, a young, attractive little thing, heard the noise and came out into the foyer, where she saw her poor husband getting his ass kicked by a bunch of girls. And then she started to scream and panic – in French, of course.

"Mon Dieu! Que faites-vous à mon mari!? J'appellerai les flics sur vous! Vous deux sont de petites filles diaboliques…!"**

"BITCH SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU'RE ABOUT TWO SECONDS FROM GETTING MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS!"

The wife quickly shut her mouth.

The two had stopped pummeling him into the ground, and Gina was walking around Jean-Claude-who-was-writhing-on-the-ground, watching him carefully. Then, she squatted down in front of him and grabbed the lapels of his vest.

"Alright you jackass, you'd better answer my question," she growled, "Kimmie and I…"

"Her name is Gina, by the way."

"Kimmie! Don't interrupt me!"

"He didn't know your name!"

"_ANYWAY_, Kimmie and I paid a visit to your fuck buddy, Arnold. Seems you've been turning a blind eye to their human trafficking ring. So, riddle me this; why the hell are you letting them kidnap innocent girls and ship them off to be sexual slaves?"

Jean-Claude paled, his eyes wide. "I… I do not know what you are talking about…"

Gina bitch-slapped him. "YOU FUCK! YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!"

The man still wouldn't talk. Gina's eyes narrowed, and she glanced over her shoulder at her sister. "Kimmie, tell Jean what happens if he won't talk."

The younger sister nodded wordlessly before kicking him in the balls as hard as she could. Jean-Claude gasped in pain, doubling over. Gina made it easier for him to curl into a pathetic little ball on the ground, especially since she had stood and rounded on her sister.

"WHAT THE FUCK KIMMIE!? I SAID TELL HIM, NOT DO IT!"

"I WOULD'VE DONE IT ANYWAY!"

The pitiful whine from the floor, caught their attention. Gina rolled her eyes, before resuming her grasp of the vest lapels.

"Well, since it's obvious what'll happen if you don't talk, I suggest you talk," she replied, sounding bored. Jean-Claude was clearly horrified. He glared at her, though it was obvious he was resigned to the fact that he was a loser who just got his ass kicked by two girls.

"I had no choice."

"What's that supposed to mean."

"This was the only way I could support my family!" he shouted, pushing Gina away and standing up, "It was the only way!"

Gina looked pissed. Kimmie, on the other hand, had sat down, one leg over the other. Her hands rested over her knees.

"Well, what evidence do you have that supports that statement?" She was all business, now.

As for Jean-Claude, he was completely speechless.

"Wh-What do you mean?"

"What evidence do you have that suggests that is the only way to support your family?"

The cop suddenly looked very sad. "I didn't have anything, I thought." He looked at the floor. Suddenly, the strong and tall cop had broken a broken shell of his former self.

Kimmie nodded, hummed in acknowledgement, before she grinned, responding "Jean, you've got a lot of ANTs*** that we need to take care of."

* * *

Jean-Claude was sobbing.

"Th-Thank you so much," he kept repeating.

"It's no problem," Kimmie replied kindly, totally out of character, "But I understand that you were deeply angry at your mother for selling your father, and so you were going to seek vengeance by letting all those girls be sold. But I'm glad you got that off your chest."

"Hey," Gina spoke up. She sounded bored out of her mind. And she was. Kimmie had just spent the past hour counseling Jean-Claude, and she was stuck watching. And being bored. "Jean, you know a guy name Patrice St. Claire?"

Jean sniffled, and nodded slowly. "Patrice is a very powerful bureaucrat here in Paris. He holds auctions ever now and then for selling the girls. He is hosting a party tonight, actually. Those are fronts he uses to cover up the auctions that happen down below."

"Can we get an address?"

"Sure…"

* * *

"Who are you two?"

Gina smiled brightly. "We are Jean-Claude."

The man was skeptical. Gina was persistent. "Oh come on! Don't tell me you've never heard of our band!"

"I haven't."

Kimmie grabbed the man's balls discreetly. "Listen, asshole. I'm not in the mood to play games. Either you let us in, or your balls are mine," she hissed in the man's ear. He quickly let them go through.

"So, what are we looking for?" Kimmie asked. Gina was studying the area carefully.

"The way down… and I think I've found it."

Kimmie nodded, and the two of them went into the elevator, which went down into a bigger-than-normal basement.

"Let's split up," Kimmie suggested. Gina looked around briefly.

"You go left, I'll go right?"

"Yup."

"Alright. See you in a bit. Don't blow up anything with your rocket-launcher. You'll bring the whole place down on us."

"Yea, yea, I know."

Gina watched as Kimmie pulled out her scariest and deadliest combination: the stable gun and the nail gun combined.

Nope, there was nothing at all to worry about with her sister.

Kimmie practically skipped down the left hall. Meanwhile, Gina was stealthily making her way down the right hall. She glanced around the corner, finding that both ways were clear.

_You know, for someone's who's holding secret auctions and selling girls, Patrice doesn't do a very good job making sure no one find this._

She picked the right hall and went down to the very end. She, very carefully, slipped through the door.

The first thing she noticed was he the room was small, relatively dark, and already had an occupant. She froze, moving slowly to leave again.

"Ah, it took you long enough," the man said, "I would like some champagne, si voux plais."

Gina's eye twitched. Did he think she was a maid?! She was going to smack him upside the head and beat him to a pulp, but that was before she noticed the name plate on the back of the chair.

Saint-Claire.

"Am I going to get my wine anytime tonight?"

_Calm down_, the voice in her head told her as she set up a glass and began pouring, _you can kill him later. Kasedy comes first_.

And, as if on cue, a woman's voice popped up. "Our last item is a rare find; a beauty indeed."

A cloaked figure – a girl, most likely – was led out onto the platform. The cloak was pulled off, and Gina found herself staring at Kasedy. Her friend was clad only in underwear and heels, and she looked like she was drugged.

_Oh fuck this._

"Hey, Patrice," Gina spoke up, placing the bottle down and pulling out a pistol, "Jesus would be ashamed to call you his descendant****. You're nothing like Sophia."

She could see Patrice furrow his eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"You're a shame to Jesus' lineage, buying and selling girls like this. Oh, by the way, I'll have you know that you are hereby declared my hostage."

Before Patrice could even shout for help, she had her gun pressed against his temple. She leaned in close so that he could hear her as she growled, "Not listen up you piece of shit. You are going to buy that girl right there, or else I am going to kill you where you stand."

"… I am sitting."

"Gonna be a smart ass, huh!?" she grabbed his hair and pulled, hard, "Buy her, _now_. If you call for help, I'll shoot you. I want her, and once I get her back, I'll leave, rightafterkillingyou."

"What?"

She yanked again, "_Just Do it_."

The man looked highly perturbed, especially after she started tugging on his luscious locks, but he did as complied, even as the bids went up. In the end, she was worth something like $500,000, but they had won her.

"Thank you," Gina said, not relenting her grip, "Now, you're going to take me to her."

Patrice sighed, standing up and turning around to face his captor. He double-taked when he took in the sight of her, clad in a very flattering black dress.

Gina rolled her eyes, "Perv," she muttered before snapping, "Let's go! You can imagine me fucking you after you give me my friend back!"

That seems to burst Patrice's bubble, but nevertheless, he led the way out into the hall. But Gina didn't take more than two steps before something smashed into the back of her head, and she fell to the ground unconscious.

* * *

***"Can I help you?"  
**

****My God! What are you doing to my husband! I'll call the cops on you! You two are evil!" or something like that. I don't remember what I put into the online translator XD**

*****ANTs = Automatic Negative Thoughts. It's a term my sister's social worker uses, and we both love it, along with "What evidence do you have to suggest that _____?"**

******This is a reference to _The Da Vinci Code_. *SPOILER IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE!* Sophia St. Clair is the last of Jesus' lineage, because in the movie, the St. Clair's are Mary's descendants. Patrice SAINT-CLAIRE. Sophia ST. CLAIR. Eh? Eh? Get it? Get it? The chapter title also refers to that too.  
**

**A/N: Methinks this is the second to last chapter. Yay! Almost done! Hope you have enjoyed this story so far! Reviews are more than appreciated: they are encouraged :)  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: _Taken_ belongs to Luc Besson, Pierre Morel, and EuropaCorp. This crack plot, and a few of the characters (namely the ones that don't appear in the movie) belong to me.**

**Also, I am not writing this in a serious fashion. Therefore, I apologize in advance to anyone I offend.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Five: She is Found **

"Ow... my head..."

As Gina slowly opened her eyes, she noticed several things. First, she was hanging by her arms, and it was rather uncomfortable. They seemed to be tied to a pipe above her head, attached to the ceiling. Second, there was a small group of burly men, Patrice included, all standing below her. That was when she remembered that 1) she was wearing her purple, satin, lingerie underwear, and 2) she was wearing a short, black cocktail dress.

Needless to say, her face turned deep crimson real fast.

"YOU FUCKING PERVS!" She wailed at the top of her lungs, "FUCK YOU PATRICE! YOUR GRANDPA JESUS ISN'T GONNA HESITATE TO SEND YOUR ASS TO HELL, AND I DON'T EVEN BELIEVE IN GOD!"

Patrice didn't seem to let this statement faze him. "How did you find out about all of this?"

"None of your fucking business," Gina spat right back. The smirk on Patrice's face widened and he took a step closer.

"I hope you do understand the situation you are currently in, my dear. You know far too much for us to just let you go."

Gina continued to glare murderously at him. Patrice glanced up.

"You have an interesting choice of wear, considering this mission you are on."

Gina's flush deepened. "I-It's my lucky underwear! Bastard, if I wasn't tied up like this...!"

"You know, my dear, there are ways you can escape this current predicament," Patrice stepped closer, wrapping an arm around one of her legs, "Your life could even be spared."

His fingers grazed the sensitive skin just above her knee, and Gina shuddered. She thoroughly cursed her young-adult hormones. Of course, any woman would probably melt at that feathery touch, damn him...

"In fact, I can easily command these men to release you," Patrice's hand was sliding up her inner leg, "And you would not be sold to anyone. What do you say?"

His fingers grazed her through her silky underwear, and she stiffened. Her eyes widened, and who would've thought her face could've turned any redder? She just might have an anneurism.

"Y-YOU PERVERT!" She shrieked, using her free leg to kick him in the face. Patrice staggered backwards and fell to the floor, clutching his head, his eyes glaring at her in incredulous rage.

"DON'T GO FEELING ME UP WHEN I'M TIED UP LIKE THIS! IF YOU'RE GOING TO TRY FUCKING ME, AT LEAST MAKE SURE I CAN USE MY HANDS TOO, ASSHOLE!!!"

Of course, that obvious offer only served to piss off the Frenchman. He stumbled to his feet, pointing to her and speaking fluent French to one of his cronies. If Gina had to guess, he probably said something along the lines of "Tear that bitch to shreds, and make sure she suffers a slow and painful death."

With that, he stalked off.

"I HOPE YOU HAVE A FUCKING CONCUSSION! GO BACK TO YOUR GIRLY BATHROOM TO PUT ON MORE MASCARA! YOU'RE WEARING TOO MUCH EYELINER, EMO!!!"

Patrice didn't seem to pay any heed... oh, he just walked into an open door... maybe he had a concussion after all... and he promptly slammed the door shut and stormed down the hall, swaying in his step every now and then. The henchmen, leers and sneers on their faces, surrounded her in a circle. The situation just _screamed_ "Gang-rape". They pulled out chains and pipes and... well, this didn't look very good, now did it? In fact, it looked amazingly painful.

One of the thugs used his pipe to push her dress out of the way so he could get a better look. Gina was thankful that she was wearing heels, else his eyeball wouldn't have been crushed, and perhaps his brain wouldn't have received a frontal lobotomy.

Her glare was terrifying. "Don't think you'll be any more luckier than Jesus' great-fucking-grandson over there, you prick."

Any libidos wanting a piece of her ass were quickly cock-blocked by that gesture, and they decided that killing her would be a hell of a lot easier.

As they moved in closer, Gina spoke up again:

"Hey, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The burly, bald one (thought they were all burly and bald, because that is what the stereotypical henchman looks like) scoffed. "And what reason do we have to even consider sparing you?"

An evil smirk graced Gina's features and her eyes were very sly as she darkly replied, "Because I'm the only one that can stop her."

"What are you talking about...!" As if on cue, a series of bloodcurdling, gut-wrenching, hair-raising screams echoed from down the hall. The group of thugs lowered their weapons and glanced down the hall, slightly curious and slightly horrified.

A splash of blood suddenly coated the wall, and a shadowed figure darted around the wall. Their eyes were practically glowing crimson though the dark hair that shielded their face. The nail gun and staple gun were drenched in blood, as was she, along with some guts here and there. Her dress, which was once a deep purple, was now a dark red and brown. You would never realize this looking at the dress, but Gina, who had supplied the dress, knew better. Obviously, while Kimmie was looking for Kasedy, she had a bit too much fun.

The small group of five, not counting Gina-who-was-dangling-from-the-ceiling, were all gaping at the younger sister in terror.

"I calculate that 75% of your have peed your pants," Gina remarked offhandedly.

Then, Kimmie's sick grin widened. The group screamed.

"I now calculate that 99% of you have shit yourselves."

Before the group could even start to run, Kimmie was upon them, her staple and nail guns ripping through flesh, and tearing out guts.

Gina watched the massacre ten feet in front of her, taking note as to how messy it was getting. The blood was getting closer to her, and being the responsible sister she was, she finally decided that it was time to snap Kimmie out of her psychopathy. After all, this was her favorite dress. She did _not_ want blood getting all over it.

"KIMMIE!!!" she roared, after taking a deep breath. Her voice echoed down the now-empty halls. The remaining few that hadn't been killed yet stared at Gina incredulously. Did that girl really think she could stop her sister with the mere uttering of her name?

Abruptly, Kimmie stopped, blinking as she took in her surroundings. She swept her long hair out of her face, exposing her blood-soaked face.

"Oh," Kimmie remarked nonchalantly. The group gaped in astonishment, clearly relieved. Of course, that was before Kimmie's nails embedded into their skulls. Now they just sprawled all over the ground being, well, dead.

"KIMMIE! WHAT DID I TELL YOU!?!"

"Not to use my rocket-launcher."

"... Well I thought you were smart enough to remember that these dresses are worth **hundreds of dollars** and you therefore couldn't ruin them!"

Kimmie blinked, looking down at her dress. "... Oh."

"OH MY GOD FORGET IT! JUST GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!"

"HEY, IF YOU DIDN'T WANT ME TO RUIN IT, YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!"

"I SAID GET ME DOWN FROM HERE, DAMNIT! I'LL BEAT YOU FROM HERE TO THE U.S. IF YOU DON'T GET ME DOWN, YOU FUCK!"

Gotta love that sisterly bond.

* * *

"We've gotta hurry," Gina said as they dashed down the street, "Patrice got away with Kas..."

"WHAT?! YOU LET THEM GO!?!"

"NO I DIDN'T. HIS GOONS AMBUSHED ME! SHUT THE FUCK UP! _Anyway_, I planted a tracker on Patrice's shirt collar. He's near the harbor. I'm assuming he's on a boat... that one, actually."

"The yak?"

"_What_? What the hell are you talking about? It's a _yacht_."

"Shut up! I call them yaks!"

"YAKS ARE ANIMALS, NOT BOATS!"

"SHUT UP! YOU'RE ABOUT THREE SECONDS FROM GETTING MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS!"

"IT'S CALLED A FUCKING YACHT! NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP AND JUMP OVER THIS BRIDGE WITH ME!"

Kimmie rolled her eyes, but nevertheless followed her older sister and jumped over the railing of the bridge. No, they were not spontaneously committing suicide.

Gina landed smoothly on the boat. Kimmie landed on the boat, but her right foot slipped and her knee bent at a VERY awkward angle. There was a very audible _pop_, and Kimmie shrieked louder than my little brother does when I pull his hair.

"SON OF A MOTHERFUCKING BITCH!" Kimmie cursed at the tops of her lungs. Gina rushed over.

"What happened?!"

"MY FUCKING KNEE!"

"Okay, OKAY! QUIET DOWN FOR FUCK'S SAKE! WE'RE TRYING TO BE STEALTHY!" Gina shrieked.

"My KNEE!"

"You blew out your KNEE?! YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"

"SHUT UP! I'M FINE! I DO THIS ALL THE TIME!" Kimmie stood up, only to collapse onto the ground again.

"Oh my God, you retard! You don't do this all the time! YOU ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING THIS TIME!"

"SHUT UP ALREADY!"

"Put your hands in the air!"

"**SHUT UP!**" Kimmie and Gina both yelled simultaneously as they pumped nails and bullets into his body. The man was quickly silenced after that.

Gina helped Kimmie to her feet and they took off into the belly of the beast, er, yacht.

As they rounded a corner, a volley of bullets caused them to duck behind an open door. Gina crouched near the edge, reloading her Uzi. "I hope you've got enough nails for this."

"Of course I do," Kimmie ripped her ruined dress off, exposing her shorts-and-secret-agent-top-with-nail-chains-draped-over-her-shoulders-and-dagger-holster-with-two-small-boxes-of-staples. Gina gaped. If she didn't know that Kimmie thought the world of her and would commit suicide before shooting her big sister, she would've pissed herself.

"... Holy fucking shit."

"Oh shut up. You're wearing something under that dress of yours."

"Actually, besides my underwear, I'm not...!" Kimmie ripped her dress off.

"KIMMIE! WHAT THE FUCKING HELL!?! I HATE YOU!"

Kimmie, dearest Kimmie, who was ignoring the bullets and gunshots around her, took in the sight of Gina, clad in her satin purple underwear.

"_That_ set, of all sets? We were performing a raid, and you chose those," she deadpanned.

"IT'S MY LUCKY PAIR, DAMNIT!"

"Oh."

The two of them ducked under another volley of bullets. Gina poked around to fire off a round of her own.

"Thanks a lot, you retard! Now I'm practically naked!"

Kimmie reached for secret agent her top, "You can wear mine..."

"Go kill yourself."

The younger sister rolled her eyes. "Go find some clothes to wear."

"Like I'm going to find clothes to wear in a ship filled with MEN IN SUITS!"

A man appeared in Gina's peripheral vision -- she quickly turned and blew his brains out. Then she glared over at Kimmie.

"I'm not going to buy you ice cream after this."

Kimmie's eye widened. "You fucking promised!"

"THAT WAS BEFORE YOU RIPPED MY CLOTHES OFF!" With that, Gina ducked into the room, intended to cut around to ambush the attackers from behind.

Kimmie glared at her sister before she faced her opponents, counting 18 of them. It wouldn't even be a challenge.

* * *

Gina slipped down the hallway unnoticed, keeping her bra covered as if her life depended on it. Turning a corner, she caught sight of a man talking to Patrice. Her eyes narrowed. That amazingly hot and sexy bastard was going to pay dearly for humiliating her like that. The man, a burly, bald thug (of course) nodded before jogging out her way. She watched as he passed her. Without thinking twice, and briefly forgetting that Patrice was _right there_, and sprung up at the man from behind, hastily snapping his neck. She carefully and quickly laid the man down on the ground, so as the prevent any loud thumps. She wouldn't want anyone noticed her presence, after all. Then, she grabbed the fresh corpse's ammo and it was only then that she realized there was nowhere to _stash_ the extra clips.

"Damn it..."

There was a _click_ from behind her, and she promptly froze.

"... Fuck..."

"An appropriate word, I would have to agree." She could hear the smirk on Patrice's face, if it was even possible to hear facial expressions, "Drop it, and stand up slowly."

Clenching her jaw, she placed her weapons on the ground, and stood up slowly, her hands in the air and away from her body to show that she had no other weapons.

"At least you won't have to search, bastard," she growled.

"I did not realize you were wearing a set."

"It's _lucky_."

"I am sure it is. Now turn around."

_Well, it's not like I have much of a choice, considering he has a gun trained on my back_.

Slowly, Gina turned around. She waited until the last possible moment to meet his gaze with her own smoldering glare.

Patrice's smirk widened, "Now, that kind of face should not grace lovely features such as yours."

"Are all French bastards like you in the sense that they sugar coat everything? You kiss anyone's ass to get whatever you want?"

The smirk suddenly looked a tad strained. Gina decided she liked it better. Of course, that didn't exactly reassure her when he was still the one hold the gun.

"Come to me," he ordered. Gina hesitated until he raised an eyebrow, and sighing in exasperation, she walked over to stand in front of him. His temper eased and in one fluid motion, he had her in his arms. Gina, who wasn't used to strangers randomly trying to have their way with her, stiffened. He chuckled into the crook on her neck, sending shivers down her spine as he pulled her into the room.

"I am sure you will find this proposition very appealing, in the end," he murmured, planting sensual kisses up and down her throat.

_Of course I find it appealing. I'm 19, and horny. That doesn't mean I'm going to actually **accept** it..._

He pushed her gingerly onto the bed, his hands stroking her smooth skin, as he moved up to mesh his lips with hers. It was hard to fight it... not like she was fighting it to begin with... but Gina whimpered slightly, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling his closer while pressing her hips more persistently against his.

_I was right... the French **are** the best lovers..._

Patrice lifted himself off of her only long enough to slip out of his jacket and unbutton his shirt, which he shed as well. Gina wrapped her arms and legs around him and wrenched him back down into another heated kiss, moaning into his mouth as one hand skirted her inner thighs, while another lingered over her breasts. When he actually stopped the teasing, Gina couldn't help but gasp in pleasure.

"Oh God..." she breathed. Gawd, had it really been _that_ long?! She felt like a LOSER. She pondered how hard it would be to follow in the footsteps of all her friends and become a total slut.

There was a low, husky, chuckle as Patrice resumed suckling on her neck. Gina closed her eyes, burying her hands into his luscious locks. She continued massaged his scalp, moving from the back to the front of his head...

He abruptly winced. She paused in her ministrations. "What is it?"

"Ah, sorry... It is my head." Patrice shook his head as if it wasn't a big deal.

"Your head... Did I give you a concussion?"

He looked up at her. "I do not think you hit me that hard."

"I think I did, my dear. And for that I'm sorry. I'll make it _all up_ to you, here and now."

Patrice's smirk returned, and he returned to kissing her neck. Gina continued making the whimpering noises, and ran her hands down his back, but she was looking around for... there! Carefully, she reached around him and grabbed the gun he had left forgotten on the bed.

She pulled him up and into another long and passionate kiss. She already knew that she was definitely going to regret this.

She broke the kiss early, staring at his through her lust-filled eyes.

"You know... this would've been so much easier if you had just done what I asked you in the beginning and turned over Kas. But you had to go about this the hard way, didn't you?" Gina smiled slightly. Patrice leaned in and kissed her once again.

"I understand, but you would have to agree, this cannot be that hard of a path, no?"

Gina pulled away again, her small smile returning once again.

"Sorry," she breathed in between her light pants, "But you shouldn't have messed with an Athletic Training student."

Patrice's eyes filled with confusion, then shock and pain as Gina smashed the butt of the gun against his head. He collapsed again her limply. Carefully, she pulled herself out from underneath him, checking each pupil, and then nodding in satisfaction.

"I almost feel bad for not warning you," she remarked as she bent over and grabbed his button up, looking it over before putting it on. It would have to do. "If you ever wake up, you won't be able to do much except garble every now and then. I'm surprised you didn't know that if you were to receive another concussion before the symptoms of your first concussion subsided, you would end up with Second-Impact Syndrome**. Since it's been, oh I don't know, less than an hour since I gave you your first concussion, you have no chance. You'll probably never wake up again."

She finished buttoning up the shirt, before looking over at his motionless form, and letting a deep sigh. "It's too bad. If you weren't such an asshole, and if you were actually a good guy, I could see us being fuck buddies. Hell, maybe even friends."

She bent over, cupping his cheek and planting a tender kiss on his lips. "Au revior, mon ami."***

_Yea, I bet you didn't know I knew a tiny bit of French! Bitch, I HAD the last laugh!_

She slipped out of the room, stopping to pick up her discarded weapons and the ammo, and took off down the hall. Knowing Kimmie, there was no need to worry, but one could never be too careful.

As she rounded a corner, a noise caught her attention, and she slowed to a stop. There was a large set of double dours.

"Well, this door looks like it leads to an amazingly important room," Gina thought aloud, readying her Uzi, "Which has led me to deduce that Kas is probably in here."

She kicked opened the door. "FREEZE...!"

Her eyes widened in shock and she froze, unable to comprehend the scene before her eyes.

The shiek was on the ground. And it was probably his blood that had stained the carpet red. Kasedy was lounging on the large bed.

"Hey. Took you long enough," Kasedy said as she stood up, "Nice outfit, by the way."

"... It's a long story... Anyway, Kas, if you don't mind me asking, what the fuck?"

"They didn't know I wasn't taking the drug they were forcing me to take. Luckily I've used them all before, so acting high off my ass wasn't hard."

"... I sometimes wonder why I don't hate you."

"Freeze!"

Gina and Kas both froze. Well. That sucks.

"Turn around so I can see your hands! Drop your weapon!"

Slowly, Gina turned around, glaring at the burly, bald thug as she placed her submachine gun on the ground.

"As you all clones or something?" she snapped irritably.

"Shut up!" Abruptly, Kimmie flew through, using a sword to slice his torso clean off. The two halves fell respectively.

"Where the hell did you get THAT?!" Gina asked in astonishment.

"I ran out of nails and staples. And I saw this on the floor. So I used it."

Kimmie was drenched in blood... again.

"I... I see..."

* * *

Bryan's cell phone was ringing. He answered it hesitantly.

"... Is this Gina?"

"No, this is Jean-Claude." The policeman didn't sound exactly happy to be calling him, "If it weren't for the fact that they were amazing therapists, I would have your daughters arrested for causing such a mess."

"What are you talking about...?"

Before Jean-Claude could answer, his phone beeped. Someone was calling in on the other line.

"Gotta go, Claude," he quickly switching to the waiting line, "Hello?"

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?"

Bryan winced at the screech. Well, he was going to need hearing aid for sure now.

"WHAT KIND OF EX-CIA AGENT ARE YOU!? GOD, KIMMIE AND I TOOK CARE OF FUCKING EVERYTHING! ARE YOU EVEN IN FRANCE?!"

"Yes I am, and I don't appreciate this tone you're taking with me, young lady!"

"GO THE FUCK HOME! WE'RE TAKING THIS STUPID FUCKING YACHT! Just make sure you explain to the Coast Guard why there are bodies on this thing."

Without a chance for him to reply, she hung up. Bryan stared at the phone for a long moment before rubbing his temples.

Ah, _that_ was the reason why he divorced Lenny, and _that_ was why he didn't even lift a finger to fight for custody of the kids...

* * *

***I only just realized this, but the Patrice I was picturing was definitely NOT the actual Patrice St. Claire. For the record, if you recall the scene where Bryan's standing behind that hot bad guy and forces him to buy Kim, that guy is actually some hired assassin or something? But I had thought he was Patrice St. Claire. because the actually Saint-Claire is ugly as hell. So I altered the movie verse to my liking, because I had destroyed it anyway in the previous chapter. So from now, think that the guy in that little room who buys Bryan's daughter is Patrice (because he is hot, and I'd never pair myself up with the original XDDD)**

**** Second-Impact Syndrome - a condition in which a person sustains another concussion before symptoms of the first concussion subsides. The brain is wulnerable after sustaining a concussion. SIS is usually fatal, and if it doesn't kill you, it leaves you brain damaged/dead for life. I really am an Athletic Training student, by the way :)**

*****"Goodbye, my friend."  
**

**A/N: That's the end! I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I'd love to hear reviews from you guys! And I'll get started on my next project ASAP. Wanna know what it is? Too bad~ You'll find out when I publish it.  
**


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